Shiver

The Great Wicked

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Assassin's Creed nor any characters, they are intellectually property of Ubisoft. I make no money in this, I write for enjoyment.

The shadows of the spire hid him well, the steep angles casting dark contours over the shingled roof of the church, like some ghoulish figure that was both a protector and a reaper of men. He took great care to stay hidden, watching over the one that disappeared, the one that almost got away. As he watched her a number of ideas why she had vanished visited him, and any one of them could have been true but his intuition was rarely wrong and it was this intuition that told him there was something more. Something much darker, something that had been buried deep, long ago.

She wasn't terribly hard to find, if you could stand very still, make not a sound and listen very carefully you would hear nothing. You would hear nothing. In parts of the world the teachings of how to interpret the slightest sight, sound and scents had long since been forgotten, they had been carried on elsewhere. Connor's days of boyhood were often spent playing hide and seek, searching for his friends, whom always had a head start on him, and yet he never failed to find them all.

He would close his eyes and count to one hundred, he could hear the sounds of them running off, crushing leaves with their rushed footsteps. By closing off his vision, his ears always picked up on the tiniest sound, the sound of scratching against the leather of their moccasins against the rough bark of nearby trees as they clambered up. Once he reached one hundred he would open his eyes and they darted around the landscape, searching for what was changed since he began counting. The world was different and once he turned he felt a surge of excitement as he took his step towards finding his friends.

Connor was always good at finding what was hidden.

Many years had past since he had indulged in a child's game, he had often observed that the frivolities of childhood were tainted once the darkness of reality touched them. The scent of smoke in the air. The distant sounds of screaming. The terrible feeling of fear as he searched for what he could not find. Who. Who could not be found, his mother.

He closed his eyes trying to put a stop to the memories that ended his happiness. Childhood is over the moment you look upon death. Since that day, he did not play hide and seek again. Instead, he learned to track, in reality it was the same thing, but Connor would not admit that his days spent learning to find what was hidden always reminded him of being a boy.

He had been watching her for sometime now, she had done nothing to give her away, nothing that might have suggested she was a suspicious character. In fact, he rather liked watching her work, she moved with a fluid grace and her presence commanded respect. This was not the woman he had met all those weeks ago, the frail creature in his arms that had been so near death, the badly beaten prisoner that had injuries that evoked a great rage within him. This was an entirely different woman, healed but scarred with an air of mystery about her, there was something that drew him in. He was intrigued by her and although he had things to do, he felt for just a few more moments he could stay and watch her. Just for a few moments more. Something about watching her made him feel at ease, like it was what he was supposed to do, where he was supposed to be. Exactly where he needed to be.

OOO

The snows were mostly gone now but dark clouds still hung over the horizon beckoning the rains to fall but then again, the weather always seemed to be like that. Like the winter would not give way to spring, there was always a heaviness in the air, but it didn't seem to bother her. The small town she had traveled to had a larger population then the camp that, there was no real signs of the military or the struggle that lay just beyond the horizon. The people were warm and friendly, they smiled at her and were very thankful for her help, there was no real sickness in this place, no great epidemic, it just seemed that sometimes they needed a doctor. Chenoa flashed a rare smile and had rolled up her sleeves and asked for no more then light and whatever medical supplies they had on hand. She worked tirelessly, somehow renewed strength of will, perhaps because no one knew who she was or where she had come from. They were just small town people who were grateful for a kind lovely stranger who would treat their wounded.

In the recent days there had been a few new arrivals in the small town, the remounts of a platoon of the Continental Regulars. They looked as though they had walked through the gates of Hell itself, many limping, covered in blood, grime and death. Their faces marred by grief, depression and hidden tears, their campaign was being marked heavily by defeat and closely followed by the won of their fallen comrades.

It was a grim sight, yet it did not shake Chenoa, of course she was trained in medicine and was probably accustomed to the sight of blood and death.

OOO

As Connor's mind had drifted to many frivolous things, he hadn't noticed that the woman he had been observing was now observing him. He blinked several times to be certain his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, indeed, it was no trick. She simply stood there, watching him watching her, her head occasionally bobbing like a skittish bird about to take flight. There was no hiding from her gaze, was this how his marks felt under his scrutinizing gaze? He looked on in slight amusement, she had very keen sight to have spotted him in the first place, she remained on the spot with a slight tilt of her head, she beckoned him to join her.

He was very unused to being seen and for a moment he was rooted to the spot, suddenly feeling like a child that had been caught trying to sneak a treat. After a moment he found his feet and walked to the back of the church where he took one more look at the layout before leaping and falling into a soft bale of hay. Knowing that a woman was waiting for him to emerge, for some reason getting to his feet took a moment longer usual. Connor whom was normally quick to his feet found himself slipping on loose hay, finally on his feet he dusted himself off and straightened his hood, dislodging hay where he found it. Within a few strides he stood less then a foot away from her. Connor had never been a man of many words and yet the moment was silenced and he could find nothing to say.

It felt odd to say nothing, he tried to think of something to talk about, anything, Chenoa's gaze seemed to sink straight into him.

"Are they badly injured? Connor asked finding something to converse about in the injured men.

"Nothing that time will not mend, theirs looks to be injuries accumulated over time. A good nights rest and some food will set them right." It was true, as Connor took a closer look he noticed that he didn't see much fresh blood, there were some people that limped but the blood that was present had mostly dried. "A hot bath might improve their spirits as well."

Another silence.

"How did you find me?"

"I am skilled in finding what is hidden and those who do not want to be found." A moment passed, "And you do not quite blend in."

"Nor do you." She responded before reaching up to grasp several strands of straw that had lodged themselves in the folds of his hood and in his hair. He felt a flush of embarrassment, suddenly very glad for his face-obscuring hood.

"Will remain here long?"

"As long as I am needed." Connor now din't really know what to say, apparently neither did she. "They told me that you are called Connor."

"That is my name." He nodded, glad she was finding something to speak of.

"Is it?" She countered knowing that it was likely an adopted name. "It does not suit you." The two of them felt eyes roaming over their brief exchange, she gestured with a nod of her eyes for him to follow once more, he did. With a bucket in hand she began to walk to the edge of the town where the lake and windmill adorned the landscape. Connor found himself much more at ease the further away they drifted from the crowd, near the waters edge for a moment Chenoa stood looking upon the dark blue waters thinking about their meeting and all that had happened since. "Why did you follow me?"

"I returned and Sarah informed me that you had departed, in a less then formal fashion."

"It was no longer necessary for me to remain, they have the services of a proper doctor." She paused trying to mask the unpleasantness of the memory in her voice. "Although, I cannot deny that I enjoyed the time I remained."

Connor felt a spike of anger in the pit of his stomach but it quickly subsided. "Yes, Sarah informed me of the circumstances prior to your departure. I see you have recovered well enough."

"So it seems." She replied not sounding entirely convinced of his findings. "I suppose I owe you for that." She turned to face him reaching up to grapes another straw from his hair. "Oleohneh."

"There is no need for such words." Connor replied falling back to his old standing of modesty and duty, also not familiar with her words.

"Well, there was no foreseeable need for you to come to my aid as you did." She countered once more with a quick wit.

"There was all the need." There was a soft warmth to his words as though he had never been more certain of anything. Chenoa offered a soft chuckle, as neither of them would budge. "Sara asked that I send her regards," Chenoa laughed now, not bothering to suppress it, knowing exactly what he meant. "Why did you not remain and try to clear your name?" He hadn't meant to just blurt it out like that, but it wasn't quite what he wanted to know, it was just as close to the real question as he would get.

"I had no reason to stay." She replied simply, of course part of her wanted to stand up and speak out for herself but to what avail? Her only regret was that Connor may have believed what he heard, now she knew there was nothing farther from the truth. "I did want to thank you, and now I have. I know you are a great aid to Washington and the Continentals, and I believe it is a fine idea, what you fight for. I hope you are successful. I would not want to keep you from the duties I'm sure you have to perform." Chenoa reached down to fill the bucket of cold and crisp water and then turned to leave.

"Chenoa." She stopped in her tracks, listening to the way her name sounded on his tongue, "What is your name?" What an odd question?

"You know my name."

"Do I?" He countered as she had done earlier, what a delightful wit he had! "It does not entirely suit you." Chenoa looked back trying to see under his hood, once more his face was hidden.

"Is that really what you want to know?" She didn't quiet expect a reply, in her experience the men who preferred a quiet manner very rarely asked what they really wanted. She stepped closer, now only a few inches away from him. "I had hoped to see you again, but I did not expect it to be this soon," Once more she expected no answer. "Perhaps we will meet again, and you may ask me what it is that you truly wish to know."

How had she seen that in him? It was as though she had plucked the thought right from the air. A voice in the distance called to Chenoa and a woman waved her over calling her name again. Chenoa nodded and waved back, holding up one finger, requesting one minute more. The woman wandered off and Chenoa was able to turn back to Connor, she picked up something from around her neck and placed it in Connor's hand sealing it in his fist, her fingertips calloused yet warm and soft.

Before he could refute the item she held a fingertip to his lips, silencing the protest before he could utter it. "Hold this for me, until we meet again and be at peace, I always return for what is mine." Connor felt the corners of his mouth turn and form the slightest trace of a smile. With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, Chenoa reached forward to his hood once more. More straw?! He felt like he was a child again with his mother cleaning up his appearance, he certainly didn't want to feel like a little boy around her. With a sly smile, she brushed her fingertips through his hair, lightly grazing his scalp until she pushed his hood completely off. She found herself looking into two dark umber eyes, "There you are." She muttered as her fingertip traced the scar on his cheek. Connor swallowed hard but hid it well, suppressing a shudder, this was certainly the most interaction he'd ever had with a woman, but he hid that well too. "You have my thanks, Wlipamkaani." Connor stood a foot six inches taller then her, standing on her toes and moving very slowly, as not to surprise him. She leaned forward and placed a kiss to his scarred cheek.

As quickly as the whole thing had happened it had ended, and Chenoa was walking back towards the sounds of the wounded, leaving Connor feeling a heated fire where her lips had touched his skin.

OOO

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